


Possessive

by centreoftheselights



Series: Dismantle The Gender Trinary [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Agender Virgil Sanders, Alpha Roman Sanders, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alphas Being Jerks, Anal Fingering, Banter, Begging, Beta Patton Sanders, Beta Virgil Sanders, Carrying, Cissexism, Domesticity, Dominant Logan Sanders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Frottage, Genderfluid Roman Sanders, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Lube, M/M, Manhandling, Minor Self-Deprecation, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Logan Sanders, Omegaverse Sexism, Oral Sex, Possessive Alphas, Possessive Logan Sanders, Possessive Roman Sanders, Possessive Virgil Sanders, Possessiveness, Scenting, Sex Toys, Sexual Harassment, Slurs, Trans Man Patton Sanders, Virgil owns a record store, fantasy sexism, internalised sexism, loving relationship, manual sex, messy sex, reassurance, submissive Patton Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 03:04:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20463986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centreoftheselights/pseuds/centreoftheselights
Summary: After Virgil and Logan have an unpleasant run-in, their mates comfort them.





	Possessive

**Author's Note:**

> If you're new to this AU, all the context you need is: Roman is a genderfluid alpha (he/him or she/her), Virgil is an agender beta (they/them), Patton is a beta trans man (he/him), Logan is an omega cis man who has a vagina because he's an omega (he/him).
> 
> Warning for some sexism & cissexism in this instalment, including sexist slurs. None of it is from the sides though.

Virgil loved their job.

Honestly, they did. It could be physically tiring at times, and stressful almost always, but running the record store was the first part of their life they'd ever truly felt in control of. Of course, their life was going a lot better now, but the record store was _theirs_, built from the ground up, in a way that falling in love and joining a pack would never change.

Of course, the music industry was a tough business nowadays. Virgil had bought the store for almost nothing, back when they'd been one of three employees of a dingy CD shop that was on the verge of going out of business. In order to keep the place afloat, Virgil had gone in a different direction: vintage. People didn't buy physical music for the _music_, after all. The store was now focussed on vinyl – special editions and early printings in particular.

It was still a niche market, but they normally got a good flow of customers in and out. Perhaps a third of the people who walked in were students from the nearby university campus, and there were a few regulars who came in at least once a week. Even the random people off the street were normally friendly, even if they were confused by the old-fashioned records and the staff wearing pronoun buttons.

… But then there were the assholes.

Virgil had sent Elliot home early, since they had looked dead on their feet all shift. It was only twenty minutes until closing, and while Virgil wasn't the biggest fan of customer interactions, they could handle locking up just fine.

So of course that was when some hipster alpha with a denim jacket and an ugly goatee had wandered in and started looking around.

And looking around.

And _still_, _somehow_, looking around.

It was now three minutes until the store's listed closing time, and the last group of students was clearing out the door when Virgil looked up from the shelf they were re-ordering and found the alpha standing… _uncomfortably_ close.

“So, you come here often?” he asked, with a stupid half-smirk that made it clear he knew exactly how bad a line that was but somehow considered it part of the charm, because… irony or something.

Oh great. It was going to be one of _those_ days.

“Can I help you with something?” Virgil asked in their best customer-service voice.

“Oh, I was just browsing,” the alpha replied. “I was hoping I might come across something I liked. And here you are.”

He looked Virgil up and down, and grinned. Virgil fought the urge to roll their eyes.

“I have an alpha,” they said, flatly. The man in front of them had to already know that, of course, unless he completely lacked a sense of smell. But there was the vain hope that the show of disinterest would be respected.

“Not much of one,” the alpha shot back. “Not if he's sending you out to work _here_. A nice boy like you should be at home, being taken care of. Tell you what, come home with me, my beta is five months pregnant, you can meet her, make friends, and this time next year you could be safe at home with a baby to feed…”

“Not interested,” Virgil snapped. “The store is closing soon. If you want to buy something, you have five minutes.”

The alpha grumbled, but Virgil didn't look back. They marched over to behind the counter, and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down and untangle the knot in their stomach –

The bell over the shop door rang. Virgil's head snapped up at the sound, but some of their tension drained away as they saw Logan entering.

“Good afternoon,” Logan greeted them.

“You're early,” Virgil replied, as Logan leaned over the counter to kiss them on the cheek.

“I'm surprised the door was unlocked,” Logan said. “You're normally meticulous about closing, unless – ah, hello.”

Logan stiffened as he noticed the alpha, who was approaching with a smile on his face.

“Of course,” he said. “That explains it.”

“Explains what?” Logan asked.

Virgil was already moving around the table to stand beside their mate.

“Your little beta –” the alpha gestured at Virgil, who bristled with barely-suppressed rage – “was a bit stand-offish earlier. But if I had someone as lovely as you waiting at home, I wouldn't want to trade packs either, even if my alpha was negligent.”

“Negligent?” Logan said, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Well, obviously. I'd never let a beta of mine run around dressed like _that_.”

Virgil let out a warning hiss, but the alpha didn't even glance at them. Of course not. He hadn't made eye contact with them since Logan had walked in.

“And your pack must be pretty hard up if you're sending him out to work.”

“_Them_.”

The alpha blinked. “Huh?”

“They use they/them pronouns. The button they are wearing clearly indicates this preference.”

“Okay, whatever.” The alpha chuckled. “Look, I earn six figures a year, and I have a lovely beta girl at home already. I could use an omega like you to help keep her in line – bring this one too, if you want. We could make ourselves a proper little pack in no time.”

Logan was already sneering, about to deliver his refusal, when the alpha decided to open his mouth and somehow squeeze out a little more stupidity.

“Wouldn't it feel nice to be able to stop playing alpha?”

Logan gaped, apparently stunned into silence for a moment by the sheer weight of ignorance in that statement.

“Wh – what?”

“Oh honey, you don't have to pretend with me.”

The alpha stepped forward, and Virgil felt their blood boil at how he crowded into Logan's space.

“It must be tough with whatever loser alpha you have at home, but I run my household _right_. I don't need a wanna-be alpha – I'm looking for a real omega, a woman who knows the meaning of the word. And I'll make you _feel_ like a woman again, if you know what I mean…”

It happened so fast. The alpha reached out, about to touch Logan, and something in Virgil snapped. Their fist was swinging before they had time to think.

Then they thought about it, and kept on swinging.

A split second later, the alpha was stumbling backwards, clutching at their nose.

“What the fuck?”

“Don't you fucking touch him,” Virgil spat at him. They were shaking with rage, ready to fight if they had to, even though the alpha was a head taller than them.

“You feral little freak! You're gonna regret that, I swear –”

“What, precisely, are you going to do?”

Logan stepped forward, holding up his phone, clearly recording. His voice was perfectly clear as he repeated: “Go on. I believe you were about to threaten my beta.”

“Your slut beta attacked me –”

“No they didn't,” Logan cut him off. “Virgil, is that what just happened?”

Logan raised an eyebrow from behind the lens, and Virgil shook their head at the camera.

“This alpha accosted my beta despite their vocal objections. I hit him in defence of my mate before beginning recording in order to document his ongoing hostility and _lies_.”

The alpha had gone very still, apparently realising that this wouldn't look good. It was their word against his, but an omega acting in defence of his pack was going to play much more sympathetically than an alpha trying to claim that a beta half his size had attacked without provocation.

“Please get out of my mate's store now, and never return,” Logan continued.

The alpha snarled.

“Frigid bitch.”

He turned on his heel and stormed out. Logan quickly hurried over to the door and locked the catch behind him.

When Logan returned to where Virgil was standing, they still hadn't moved a muscle.

“Are you alright? I – oh.”

As soon as Logan touched them, Virgil threw themselves at him, wrapping their arms around his middle and nuzzling their face into the collar of their shirt, scenting him deeply. After a moment of surprise, Logan returned the embrace, holding Virgil close and scenting at their hair, trying to reassure himself as much as Virgil.

_We are safe. We are unharmed. We are together_.

“How quickly can we get out of here?” Logan asked in a low voice. “I know you need to close up the store –”

“Uh.” Virgil blinked a couple of times. They were trembling from the leftover adrenaline, and it was hard to focus. “I… Kai's on opening tomorrow, he'll be pissed but I can text him and get him to handle straightening up. Gotta count out the register, though.”

“Do you need me to stay with you?”

Virgil shook their head.

“Check the back room and the bathroom for me? Just… make sure no-one's in there. And close up the shutters too.”

“Of course, love.”

Logan tipped Virgil's head up for a kiss – perhaps a little fiercer than was strictly necessary but Virgil didn't seem to mind. They hurried over to the register, a little unsteady on their feet still, but they'd closed up shop enough times that they could do it in their sleep.

Logan made his way diligently around the store, checking it was truly empty. By the time he'd finished, Virgil was closing up the safe. They hesitated for a moment, still turned away from him, before saying:

“I'm sorry.”

Logan stilled.

“Whatever for?”

“I shouldn't have –” Virgil flinched a little, their casual facade cracking for a moment. “I lost my temper. I didn't mean to cause trouble – not to drag you into it, anyway. I should've let you deal with him, the smart way –”

“Love.” Virgil started a little as they realised Logan had moved to right behind them. “Virgil, darling, can you look at me?”

Virgil took a slow breath before turning around. Somehow, even after all these years, it was still a shock to look at their mates when their anxiety was certain they were about to face rejection, and to find nothing but love and acceptance there.

“Oh.” Virgil sighed a little, deflating with relief.

“I won't deny that your method was… sub-optimal.” Logan's mouth quirked into a small smile. “We can talk about conflict resolution later. But I'm not angry or annoyed. In fact, seeing you defend me like that – protect me, from an alpha of all people – I…”

Virgil finally noticed the red tint darkening on Logan's face, and the way their mate was staring at them took on a very different meaning.

“So I take it you aren't mad at me?” Virgil asked, smirking.

Logan chuckled.

“Very much not,” he said. “You are… phenomenal.”

And well, when Logan said something like that, what could Virgil do but kiss him?

They grabbed at Logan's tie to pull his head down, their lips meeting in a desperate clash. Something flipped inside Virgil, and suddenly instead of fear, there was only burning, desperate heat, passion and love and a desire to be touched. Logan could probably have explained it properly – something about adrenaline and hormones and reasserting the pack bond – but Virgil didn't care. They only knew that they were kissing Logan, and they didn't ever want to stop.

Judging from the way Logan was moaning into their mouth, his tongue pressing slick against Virgil's, they weren't the only one.

When Logan pulled back a little, Virgil tried to chase him, pouting as Logan used his height against them.

“Stop,” Logan panted. “We need to – we should get home.”

Virgil thought of Patton and Roman with a sudden pang, an aching need to have all their mates close.

“Yeah,” they admitted.

“Give me your keys.”

“What? Why?”

Logan frowned. “You're in no fit state to drive.”

“You're not much better,” Virgil shot back.

But then Logan took hold of their hand, gently bringing it to his lips for a slow, open-mouthed kiss.

“Please?” he asked, softly.

“Okay, fine,” Virgil huffed. “But if you stick to the speed limit, I'm divorcing you.”

They arrived home in record time. The moment they opened the door, both Roman and Patton rushed into the hall, summoned by the acrid scent of their mates' distress.

“What happened?” Patton asked, checking Logan over as though searching for injuries.

Logan glanced encouragingly at Virgil.

“Some alpha was hassling Logan at the store,” Virgil explained. “He started to get physical so I… punched him.”

Roman whooped in delight, and swept Virgil up into his arms. Normally, they would protest at this sort of exuberance, but today they simply buried their face against Roman's neck.

“My beautiful, fearless beta!” Roman exclaimed. “I bet you were magnificent!”

“They were,” Logan confirmed with a small smile. “It was very impressive. I believe they broke his nose.”

Roman whooped again.

“Are you hurt?” Patton fussed.

“Just some bruised knuckles,” Virgil reassured. “I'm fine, Pat. We just wanted to… get home to you guys.”

“Oh, baby!”

Virgil blushed, murmuring something against Roman's neck too quietly for anyone else to hear.

“You… oh!” Roman coloured slightly. “But of course, love. And do you want the others to join us?”

“If they want.”

Logan shook his head stiffly.

“Actually, if I might… have your assistance in the living room, please Patton?”

Roman turned and began carrying Virgil upstairs as the other two moved into the front room.

“What's up, Lo-Lo?” Patton asked, brightly.

Logan answered by pushing him up against the wall, and kissing him fiercely.

“Uh-huh?” Patton was still grinning when Logan pulled up for air, even though his hair was mussed and his glasses had been knocked askew. “I thought it might be something like that.”

“Beta…” Logan said, his voice so low it was almost a growl.

“I'm right here, honey,” Patton promised, combing his fingers through Logan's hair. “What do you need?”

Logan made a frustrated noise.

“The way he was _looking_ at Virgil,” he huffed. “The way he talked about them – like they weren't even there! Like he had some kind of _claim_ on them, and he _doesn't_, they're –”

Logan broke off with a gasp.

“Yours,” Patton finished for him.

“I didn't want to cause Virgil any further stress,” Logan explained. “I knew it was important to remain in control, to get them home safely…”

“And you did,” Patton said, comfortingly. “You got them home, and Roman is taking care of them. And now your beta is right here, and I'm all yours. So show me what you need, baby.”

Logan whined, deep in the back of his throat, and pressed his lips against Patton's waiting throat, a quick kiss that presaged a long, sucking bite that had Patton gasping and grabbing at the front of Logan's shirt. Logan caught Patton's wrists in his hands, pinning them to the wall beside his head.

“My beta,” he snarled.

“Yours, Lo,” Patton replied feverishly. “Always and forever.”

Logan whined again as he released Patton's hands.

“Want to –”

“Anything you want,” Patton promised, fumbling at Logan's shirt buttons. Logan kissed him, breaking his concentration as he moaned into his mate's mouth. Logan pulled Patton with him across the room, stumbling backwards to the couch before pushing Patton down onto his knees. Patton dropped down immediately, nuzzling his cheek against the front of Logan's pants while Logan was hastily undoing his fly.

Logan kicked his trousers off and sat on the edge of the couch. For a moment, he gave Patton a fond look. Then he grabbed him by the hair, dragging his head to where we wanted it. Patton moaned at the tug, and dove right in, tongue lapping eagerly at Logan's folds. Logan ground his hips up into the sensation, the motion smearing slick across Patton's face. Logan groaned and leaned back, draping his legs over Patton's shoulders, one hand in his hair, the other unbuttoning his own shirt.

“You're so good at this,” Logan murmured, encouragingly. “Look so good on your knees for me. Your tongue makes me feel so good – _fuck_!”

Logan's grip tightened in Patton's thick curls as his other hand slipped inside his shirt, pulling his bra aside to toy with the nipple, already dark and puffy and sensitive. Patton groaned in response, and pressed his tongue against Logan's slit, working into the tight, slick ring of muscle there.

“No other pack can have you,” Logan panted. “No-one gets to touch you without my say so. You're mine, my beta, my love – ah, right there!”

Logan trailed off into wordless groans, canting his hips up against Patton's face, ruthlessly using Patton's mouth for his pleasure in just the way that drove them both wild. Logan wrapped his legs around Patton's head, his thighs squeezing closed and giving Patton no chance to pull away – not that he wanted to. Only a couple of minutes later, Logan was gasping and shaking as he came, before collapsing back against the couch cushions.

A small whine roused him from his daze. Logan looked down to see Patton still on his knees, panting for air, his face shiny with spit and slick.

“Thank you for that, darling,” Logan said softly. “Do you want me to return the favour?”

Patton bit his lip.

“Didn't touch myself,” he admitted, his voice breathy. “… Wanted you to do it.”

“Oh.” Logan's breath caught in his throat. “Good boy. Come here for me?”

Patton quickly shucked off his pants before perching sideways across Logan's lap. As soon as he sat down, Logan's arm was around his waist, the other hand cupping Patton's face for a slow, searing kiss that had Patton squirming his hips and moaning his pleasure into Logan's mouth.

“Please,” he sighed. “Please, Lo, I need you…”

Logan pulled back, a dark glint in his eyes as he deliberately rubbed his hand through his own folds, smearing his fingers with slick. A couple of seconds later, he was rubbing circles around Patton's asshole, while Patton let out little breathy gasps and ground his hips backwards.

“Hold on for me, love,” Logan murmured. “I don't want to drop you.”

Patton threw his arms around Logan's neck, and took the opportunity to press kisses desperately against Logan's jaw.

“Please, omega,” he gasped. “Need you, I'm yours, want to feel you –”

“Oh, you are –” Logan's breath caught – “so beautiful. Perfect for me, my wonderful boy…”

Logan pressed two fingers inside slowly, working them in up to the first knuckle. Patton whimpered softly, trying his best to hold still. Logan pressed his other hand in between Patton's thighs, taking hold of his cock between a thumb and two fingers. When he started pumping over it, moving his hand up and down with sudden vigour, Patton yelped at the sensation, jerking suddenly in Logan's arms.

“Keep your thighs open,” Logan instructed with a smile. “Unless you want me to stop?”

Patton whined, and opened his legs far enough for Logan to resume stroking his cock. Meanwhile, Logan was working his fingers deeper into Patton, moving them in small, shallow circles that left Patton gasping.

“Can – can I –”

Logan captured his lips in a kiss, the awkward angle making it sloppy and desperate as Patton panted into Logan's mouth.

“Come apart for me,” Logan said. “Let me see how much you love being mine.”

“Lo – Lo, I – oh, oh!”

Patton tensed, shuddering as his orgasm swept through him. His hole pulsed around Logan's fingers, but Logan kept working over his cock, slowing gradually as Patton began to catch his breath.

“Enough?” Logan asked, his eyes dark with arousal. “Or would you like to keep going, love?”

Patton blinked.

“I could –”

His words were interrupted by the shrill beeping of the oven timer coming from the next room.

“Oh, goodness! The lasagna!”

Logan chuckled, pulling his fingers out of Patton even as he surged forwards for one last kiss. Patton slowly pulled away as he got to his feet, then hurried through to the kitchen, stopping only to grab his pants off the floor.

“I suppose round two can wait until after dinner,” Logan said, only slightly grumpily.

“My favourite dessert!” Patton called back, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Roman carried Virgil up the stairs and into the bedroom, setting them down gently on the edge of the bed. He didn't even have the chance to straighten up before Virgil's arms were looped around his neck, dragging him down into a heated kiss. Roman groaned as Virgil's hand found its way to his ponytail, gently tugging Roman where they wanted him. Virgil leaned back without breaking the kiss, dragging Roman down on top of them as they lay back on the bed.

Both of them were breathing heavy, panting into each other's mouths, gasping for air in the brief seconds where they broke apart before clashing back together again. Virgil was clutching at Roman – not in the way they usually did, playful and commanding, but desperate and fumbling and hesitant. They grasped at the buttons on Roman's shirt, and Roman moved to help them, but when his hand touched theirs, he stilled, pulling back.

“Are you alright, darling?”

Virgil rolled their eyes.

“Ro, is now really –”

“Your hands are shaking.”

Virgil faltered, their expression turning soft and faintly scared in a way that felt like a crack through Roman's heart. He rolled onto his side, lying next to Virgil, and gently brushed their hair out of their eyes.

“Oh, love. This has you really shaken, doesn't it?”

“It's fine,” Virgil insisted, shaking their bangs back into place. “I've dealt with creeps my whole life, I can handle it. But…”

“But?” Roman prompted.

“It's just got in my head a bit,” Virgil admitted. “I feel like a hypocrite! I fight off the sexist knothead, and then I come home and –” they bit their lip, looking down at Roman's chest – “and I spread my legs for my alpha like a good little beta.”

That stung, but Roman didn't draw back.

“Does this feel like that?” he asked.

“No. Kinda? I don't know!” Virgil ran a hand through their hair, frustrated. “I know _you_ aren't like that. And I wouldn't – well, if I didn't _want_ to fuck you right now, I wouldn't be having this problem. But I do want to, I'm almost ready to roll over and bare my throat to you –”

Roman tilted his head.

“Why?”

“You know why,” Virgil grumbled.

“Humour me?” Roman asked, voice light and almost teasing. “You wanted me in here, not Logan or Patton or anyone else in the world. Why?”

Virgil sighed.

“I wanted to be with _my_ alpha. Sometimes I feel like you're the only good one in the whole world.”

“And what makes me so different?”

“Are you sure you're not just fishing for compliments?” Virgil complained. “You're… you respect me. And Pat, and Lo. You treat us like equals – you understand me even better than they do sometimes. You don't mind that I'm… not really how a beta is supposed to be.”

“I disagree vehemently with that statement,” Roman interjected, “but go on.”

“I feel safe with you.” Virgil hesitated for a moment. “That's it, really. I wanted to feel safe, and I thought of you. Of here. Of our pack. You make me feel like I can… stop worrying. For once.”

The two of them moved together so gradually, it wasn't really clear who started it. But still, Roman paused for a moment before kissing Virgil, making eye contact and waiting for them to lean in, before their lips met as soft as a falling leaf brushing the ground.

“I get it,” Virgil murmured against Roman's lips. “I know I'm not… what he said I was. I just – I wish it didn't feel like every little thing I do is a fucking _statement_.”

“No statements here,” Roman promised. “No alphas or betas. Just Virgil and Roman. Okay?”

“Mmm, can we just hold each other for a while?”

“Of course, love.”

Virgil smirked against Roman's jaw.

“I mean, I do still want you to take your clothes off.”

A shiver ran down Roman's spine at the tone of their voice.

“As you wish.”

The two of them moved slowly, alternating between soft, tender kisses and stripping out of their clothes. By the time they were both down to their boxers, the kisses were starting to grow deeper and more urgent. Roman wrapped an arm around Virgil's waist, holding them close as their hands roamed up and down his chest.

“Want you so bad,” Virgil sighed against Roman's collarbone.

“Really?” Roman teased, his voice low and heated. “You want more, love?”

“I – fuck.”

Roman was alarmed for a moment when Virgil rolled back, turning away. But a moment later, they were scrambling in the bedside drawer, and Roman's breath caught.

“Can we…?” Virgil held up the item in their hands in place of a question.

It was a knotband – one of their favourite sex toys. It wrapped around an alpha's knot, keeping pressure on it once it started to swell, to make a handjob or blowjob or regular old sex-without-knotting less awkward. It also had the effect of making orgasms resulting from those activities longer and more intense, which Roman was _not_ complaining about.

“Of course,” Roman answered. “Do you want to put it on me?”

“I don't know, are you ready for me?” Virgil ran their hand over the front of Roman's boxers, and his cock jumped at the touch. Virgil chuckled. “I'll take that as a yes.”

They hooked their fingers into the waistband, starting to pull the boxers down.

“So, how do you want me?” Roman asked.

“Can we stay like this?” Virgil paused for a second. “Just… use our hands? I don't want to stop touching you.”

“Sounds wonderful. You got the lube?”

“No, I'm an amateur.” Virgil flashed the tube in their hand at Roman.

“Oh, forgive me, Mx 'It's Just A Quickie, It'll Be Fine' –”

“Okay, that was _one_ time, and we _both_ learned our lesson –” Virgil protested, as they finally pulled Roman's boxer shorts all the way off. “So shut up.”

Roman smirked.

“Make me.”

Virgil rolled their eyes, but a second later they were kissing Roman once more, holding onto Roman's hair with one hand and fumbling to get their own boxers off with the other. Roman pulled them close, one arm around their shoulders, the other curled under their waist, hand cupping their naked ass. Their faces were pressed so close that Roman couldn't have seen anything else, even if he wanted to – but he could hear the familiar click of the lube bottle being opened, and he could certainly feel the first slick touch of Virgil's hand against his cock.

“You like that?” Virgil teased as Roman's eyes fluttered closed. The low heat in Virgil's voice was enough to leave Roman groaning with anticipation.

“I love you,” he gasped, rolling his hips forward against Virgil's thighs. “Please don't stop.”

“Not stopping,” Virgil promised. “But…”

They moved down the bed a couple of inches, and Roman almost let out a complaint that he couldn't kiss them any more – but then they slid their hips just right, and Roman could feel their cock rubbing along his own, and he wasn't complaining any more. His back arched in pleasure, pressing forward into the tight, wet grip of Virgil's hands, and Roman had no idea when Virgil had slipped the knotband onto him, but he could feel it starting to work now.

“Feels so good,” Roman murmured.

“You too,” Virgil said back. “Love you so much, Ro.”

Virgil had their forehead pressed against Roman's chest, and he could feel their breath hot against his stomach. Roman wrapped his arms around his love tighter, holding them close and babbling a constant stream of half-coherent praises, something about “love” and “good” and Virgil's name, spoken with awestruck reverence.

Virgil's rhythm sped up, getting slowly more erratic, and Roman tangled a hand into their hair, tugging on it lightly.

“Fuck, I –”

Virgil let out a familiar whine, and Roman slowed his movements somewhat, gentling them through their orgasm as their hand slackened around him. They rolled their hips off to the side, moving their softening cock away.

Roman was more a little surprised when, a few moments later, Virgil's hand tightened around his cock again, moving with a sudden, vicious spurt of speed. It only took a minute or two before Roman was spilling over their hand, thick spurts of come catching them both across their bare stomachs.

Roman whined and shook, the band on his cock making it feel as though he were knotted inside Virgil, even as their hand kept rubbing in lewd strokes over his oversensitised cockhead. He wasn't even aware of Virgil moving until their lips captured his own, their tongue pressing deep inside his mouth as he moaned into their open lips.

“That feel good, baby?” Virgil asked. “It looks good. Maybe I should leave you like this, take you down to dinner while you're still coming in your pants, what do you think?”

Roman whined, but shook his head.

“Not tonight,” he huffed. “Didn't you see – Logan? I'm gonna need dinner to – unh, recover.”

“You don't think Pat's taken care of him?”

Roman chuckled weakly.

“Bold of you to assume – Logan is only gonna wreck _one_ of us, when he was looking like that.”

“That's fair. Okay, baby, deep breath.”

Roman gasped with pleasure as Virgil carefully released the knotband, shuddering as the last couple of aftershocks worked their way through him. He fell back against the sheets, breathless and beaded with sweat, grinning dopily as Virgil curled up with their head on Roman's chest.

“Pat's gonna be so mad at us,” Virgil commented lightly. “We forgot to put a towel down.”

“Mmm, we can change the sheets,” Roman replied. “We'll be in more trouble for missing dinner.”

“Bold of you to assume Lo didn't make Patton burn dinner,” Virgil shot back.

“We'd have noticed the smoke alarm,” Roman said. Then, after a moment: “Probably.”

It was another fifteen minutes before they made it downstairs, both looking thoroughly wrecked, to eat the slighly-crispy lasagna that Patton had been keeping warm in the oven for them.

Logan was a little mad at being kept waiting. But that was okay.

They would make it up to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having a rough time lately, so please remember comments are always appreciated! Even better, come chat to me! <https://discord.gg/YsEQWwa>


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